


dear l.t, sincerely h.s

by thestarsaboveus



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Diary/Journal, Letters, Libraries, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29876976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestarsaboveus/pseuds/thestarsaboveus
Summary: Harry had been scouring the dusty shelves deep in the library when he’d found the notebook. It had been curiously clean, the type that you wouldn’t expect from the looks of its neighbouring books, so Harry, never been the one to be able to tamper down his curiosity, had slid it out of the shelf and have a peek inside. In the top corner on the inside of the moleskine cover, he noticed the initials L.T written in a gorgeous calligraphy script.“Curious,” he muttered to himself, taking a seat at the nearest desk and turning on the old tiffany lamp. With the added yellow light, he was able to read the next page in clearer clarity.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	dear l.t, sincerely h.s

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back again! finally. i'm not entirely sure with this one, it's mostly only the first chapter of what could be an interesting story, but i don't know if it's worth putting my time into. let me know if you like it!
> 
> (title is a work in progress - do the lowercase initials look weird? i don't know)

Harry had been scouring the dusty shelves deep in the library when he’d found the notebook. It had been curiously clean, the type that you wouldn’t expect from the looks of its neighbouring books, so Harry, never being the one to be able to tamper down his curiosity, had slid it out of the shelf and have a peek inside. In the top corner on the inside of the moleskine cover, he noticed the initials L.T written in a gorgeous calligraphy script.

“Curious,” he muttered to himself, taking a seat at the nearest desk and turning on the old tiffany lamp. With the added yellow light, he was able to read the next page in clearer clarity.

_Hello, whomever found this notebook. I hope your day has been going well today. I’m currently writing this in my dorm common room, attempting to escape from my roommate/best friend and his girlfriend. I’m sure you can fill in the blanks on what they might be spending their time doing in my dorm room right now. It’s a Thursday night, and someone was kind enough to light the fire a little bit before I arrived here, so the room is casted in a lovely orange glow, and it’s slightly toasty. Adding to the Billie Holiday record I put on to the player when I first come in and I might just fall into a deep slumber in this overstuffed armchair right now, if I’m not careful. I’m extremely sleepy now, which is a big problem and it means I’m going to have to down some sort of caffeine asap if I want to finish the coursework I have due tomorrow. (Which is a lot, so yes, I do want to finish it.)_

_You, you delightful, curious-as-a-cat person, must be wondering why on earth I have placed this small, extremely cheap notebook in such an abstract and perhaps forgotten bookshelf. And also why I’m writing a letter to you. Well, first of all, if you’ve found this, it means you either stumbled upon the bookshelf I placed it on by a happy accident, or you were looking for one of the extremely interesting books surrounding it. If you either of this options (and I’m assuming you must be), you are automatically one of the most fascinating people to ever walk this earth. And I, personally, would like to know you, if only through a process of writing letters to each other in this moleskin notebook. I suppose the point still stands of why I would do this when I supposedly have other friends. And I do; I have hordes of people who I would call friends, and they me. But I still find myself in complete and utter solitude. I’m not entirely sure why. I could be surrounded by these so-called friends I have and feel like there’s no one there at all. Things have seemingly been passing me by in a blur: a blur of faces, a blur of coursework, a blur of late nights and painfully early mornings, a blur of shifts at the local pub and mugs of Yorkshire tea. It’s almost like I’m floating, head just slightly above the clouds, unable to see through to what’s going on below. It might be depression, or stress, or just the way I am. But really, I would just love for a friend. A friend who doesn’t actually know my face, or what my voice sounds like, or even what my name is. A friend who, despite not knowing these seemingly essential facts, knows me better than anyone else in my life._

_So, what I’m asking you is, will you be that person? You never have to meet me, just write me a letter in this notebook. I’ll respond and we can talk about all matter of things. If you don’t want to be that person, it’s quite alright. Just put the notebook back, please. Thank you. Either way, I’ll miss you terribly, even if I’ve never met you. I wish you a wonderfully fulfilling life. If you’ve decided to stay, hello, friend. I’m eager to know you._

_Sincerely,_

_L.T_

“Oh,” Harry whispered in a light exhale of breath. The library was dead around him, too deep in the stacks of books for anyone to hear him or for him to hear anyone, but the air around him felt nonetheless alive, crackling with the possibility of something. He flicked through the rest of the notebook, the pages blank of any more writing. The book couldn’t’ve been there or too long, could it? It was far too clean and free of dust for it to have been sitting there a while. It took barely a second of consideration for Harry to reach for his favourite pen and begin a response.

_L.T,_

_Hello. I found your notebook today. I do hope you finished your coursework that night, and that your roommate didn’t make too much of a mess. I absolutely adore fireplaces. They seem so charming and regal, yet comforting. I like to sit in front of the one in my common room and whisper my secrets into the flame when no one is around. I also like Billie Holiday, and I can understand how her honey-like voice can bring you to an easy-going sleep. I would have to say my favourite of hers is ‘Autumn in New York’, as typical as that may seem. Despite all of her incredible music in her discography, that one, with its lovely tones and calming story, always made me see a kaleidoscope of colours behind my eyes. I quite enjoy all types of jazz, actually. I find every song, without fail, has an incredibly beautiful and tragic story embedded within the notes. I should love to visit New Orleans one day. Perhaps you could come alone with me for the ride._

_I know how you feel, by the way. That pesky feeling of stark loneliness seems to sneak up on the best of us, and envelope us in a cloak of misty darkness. I find it helps to take a minute and stare at your surroundings until they become more precise. I could stare at the sky for hours at a time, watch it slowly turn from the bright blue to streaks of purple, red, orange and pink before finally settling into the marvellous navy with flicks of brilliant burning stars dressing it in glamour. It usually helps me slow down; realise how small and insignificant I am in contrast to the rest of the galaxy, the universe. I am little, so microscopic. My problems are far less large than I think they are, if only I give myself the time to realise it._

_I like the stars. Those dazzling, vivid, burning balls of gas. There is this theory I read once, though at present moment I can’t exactly recall where from, that every star up there is every great idea any ever thought of. The bigger the idea, the dream, the bigger and brighter the star. But I like to think that every star that you can spot when you look up into that inky blue sky is everything that was ever loved. Souls, childhood toys, songs, books, paintings. All of it. I’m sure that one of the stars up there is a hug from my mother, or a grin from my best friend. Perhaps there is also my favourite book, and a piece of work I’m proud of. I should love to be an astronomy, to know all kinds of facts about the stars. To be able to share them with the air when I lay down on cool grass and gaze up at the starry night. Maybe I’ll research them some, write them down for you._

_I found your notebook while searching for a book on the philosopher Simone de Beauvoir. There is this one book I know of that is about her theory of existentialism and how it might be inspiration for many artists. Do you know her? I think she’s a rather fantastic philosopher, but you must read her essays in their original language - that is, French - or else I feel you sort of lose the real meaning and sustenance behind her words. I like to think I’m quite good at French, practically fluent, but I’m afraid when reading her writings, I need to keep a French-to-English dictionary, or at best my mother (she’s French) nearby!_

_Do you know any languages? I’ve been trying to learn Latin and Greek recently and I think I’m progressing quite well. It is hard to learn a dead language like Latin, though. Oh well, must persist and all that, I suppose._

_I just realised that I forgot to say - of course I will be your friend without a face. It’s rather mysterious and romantic, don’t you think? There’s a chance that we’ve already met, or we might meet later on, but never know it’s each other we’re writing to. Sounds exciting._

_Well, I must get back to Ms. de Beauvoir. I look forward to knowing your words._

_Sincerely,_

_H.S_

Harry sat back and admired his work. He smiled, a bubble of exhilaration rising in him like those in a flute of champagne, letting the ink dry before he closed the notebook carefully and placed it back on the shelf.

**Author's Note:**

> yes? no? i'm not sure. any feedback is cherished and appreciated, just like you
> 
> and as truman would say, in case i don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening and goodnight!
> 
> p.s let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes that's so embarrassing if there are thank you lovely :)
> 
> also! you can follow me on twitter if u want. i don't really tweet all that much but every now and then i'll interact with someone. i do follow back tho! it's a small account (not being modest or exaggerating AT ALL which i think is pure comedy) so that's mostly why. but yeah! any questions, ideas, whatever, you can find me there. also if you have anything that you might like me to write, ask ahead on there, i promise i'm really not scary or anything.
> 
> https://twitter.com/ad0ringyou
> 
> (i've literally been trying for the past 10 minutes to get this as a hyperlink but it literally isn't working??? what am i doing wrong omg)


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